





THE 



TWO WOMEN: 

A BALLAD. 

WRITTEN EXPRESSLY FOR THE LADIES 

OF WISCONSIN, 



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insr FIVE IP-A-IE^TS. 



MILWAUKEE : 

PUBLISHED BY THE WISCONSIN NEWS COMPANY. 
1868. 



THE 

TWO WOMEN: 

A BALLAD. 

-WRITTEN EXPRESSLY FOR THE LADIES 
OF WISCONSIN, 



pt\h, ^A 



TJST FIVE PARTS. 



MILWAUKEE : 



PUBLISHED BY THE WISCONSIN NEWS COMPANY. 
1868. 




iIB"&?> 






Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868, 
in the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the District of Wisconsin. 



Starr & Son, 

Cook and Job Printers. 



The Two Wo^vien 



TH E ARGUMENT. 

Part I. 
HE Ballad Singer selects his audience from the gentler 
sex and notes in them several kinds of beauty. He 
proposes to tell them an old story in new and simple 
words, and they gracefully compose themselves on the 
grass to hear; secretly pleased that it is for them only, and not 
for those who are cruel, cloddish, and devoid of sensibility. 

He notices, what they all have noticed before, that Spring 
and Morning, and opening roses, and all young, pure and 
gentle things are beautiful, but none so lovely as a tender 
babe, an heir of Immortality. He thinks the Angels might 
envy the Mortal Mother if they were not employed in just 
such labor themselves by command of The Everblessed God. 

The story is about two illustrious persons of their own sex 
round whom the mysteries of Earth and Time, and perhaps 
Eternity, are clustered ; but these peerless Women, being of 
flesh and blood and subject to the law of gravitation (at least 
while we look at them,) must have somewhere to stand, the 
Ballad Singer has to make a rude sketch of the Creation in 



THE TWO WOMEN. 



Part II. 
Which sketch he makes according to the Old Writings and 
the New Geology, and by this we get at last a basis of "terra 
firma." But bare earth is not much; a bleak house and with- 
out furniture. So it must be furnished and perfumed, as the 
loving spouse prepares his dwelling before bringing his chosen 
and altogether lovely bride to his new Home. In 

Part III. 

The Bride, who is the first of these wonderful Dames, 
arrives, and her name is Eva. 

Eve, ah ! 

The sound is expressive, it ends with a sigh. Alas! for 
her, our beautiful Mother ! How could evil for mankind 
spring from a being so lovely ? We are dreadfully puzzled 
by this question. 

But perhaps we would be still more puzzled did we not 
see every day that her daughters by disobedience, and her 
sons by weak compliance with their unlawful witcheries, pro- 
duce evil to themselves and also to their offspring to the 
third, fourth, and we cannot tell to how many generations. 

Then, the easiest way is to fall back on the old story. 

Eva disobeyed. 

Adam yielded to his wife and disobeyed the command of 
God. 

It might be noted here, that there was but one woman in 
Paradise; suppose there had been two or three more and the 
law of Divorce as easy as it is in Indiana, or indeed any- 
where, would he have yielded? 



THE ARGUMENT. 5 

A question not to be answered. 

So thus it stands, the Devil, or snake, like your modern 
infidel would blame God ; Eva blamed the Serpent ; Adam 
blamed Eva. 

After the Fall, something very ignoble crops out in the 
character of Adam; he tries to shift the blame from his 
strong, on to her weak shoulders ; not much chivalry in this. 

Trouble upon trouble falls on the race of Adam : 

"Disaster, 
Followed fast and followed faster, 
Till his songs a melancholy burden bore." 

The Ballad Singer would rather jump over some thousands 
of years of a dreary abyss of History, but any one wishing 
to have a glimpse of its nature may read thoughtfully a Chi- 
cago Newspaper, advertisements and all ! 

Part IV. 

As myriad flakes of snow falling when there is scarcely 
any wind, sway and unite with each other, and in silence 
cover the ground, so descend the mercies of Heaven upon 
man. Dame Nature, too, that old and sunburnt vassal of 
God, when she is doing something good for us, works very 
quietly. 

The flowers open in silence and the grass and wheat grow 
almost without a whisper; the corn swells and fills, and the 
apple and the grape are filled and rounded noiselessly into 
beauty. 

So also Mary, the Second Eva, appears on earth unheeded 
by the babbling world. 



THE TWO WOMEN. 



Let us strew flowers before her feet ! She consented to 
the Will of God. She restored, by humble Obedience, that 
which was lost by proud Disobedience. 



The birds have ceased singing. 
The light is fading. 
Adieu ! 



Milwaukee, 1st of May, 1868. 



THE 



TWO WOMEN 

A BALLAD. 



Part I. 

OME little girls with lustrous eyes, 
Brighter than those of the gazelle, 

1 And hear this old, this ever new, 
This wondrous tale I tell ! 

'Tis partly of a lady fair, 

With rosy lips and teeth of pearl, 
Who 'was a wife, a mother too, 

But never was a girl ! 

Come ! gather round me on the grass, 
You sweetly folded buds of Spring ! 

Make parasols of linden leaves 
And listen while I sing ! 

Come modest Virgins ! on this green 
And flowery lawn your forms recline, 

Beside your younger sisters now, 
And hear this tale divine ! 

'Tis partly of a lady fair 

With regal crimson in her veins, 
A wife, a mother blest, and yet 

A Virgin still remains ! 



THE TWO WOMEN. 

How beautiful you are ! how meek 
And lovely are your downcast eyes ! 

The drooping lid, the liquid shade, 
Like cloud o'er summer skies. 

The rose and lily on your cheeks 
Are sweetly blended, fair to see ; 

As on your lips the winning smile 
Of love in purity. 

Yet she was fairer far than you, 

The roses pale, the lilies fade, 
And beauty's self is dim beside 

This noblest, humblest maid. 

Come Mothers ! let your children play 
And gather wild flowers round us here, 

How quickly thro' the last soft shower 
The bursting buds appear ! 

But some are weeping — ah, poor heart ! 

The beautiful have sunk to sleep 
And may not wake to share your joy, 

No wonder that you weep, 

The most illustrious mothers wept 
Like you to see their children slain, 

The sinful and the sinless weep, 
And love is mixed with pain. 

Yet bind up your neglected hair, 

And dry your eyes and smile once more ! 
See now ! like flowers thro' dew you look 

Far lovelier than before. 

Come sober Widow! lonely left 

Like constant mateless mourning dove : 

The grave has taken strength and stay, 
But could not take thy love. 



A BALLAD I PART I. 

The brightest, holiest of thy sex, 
A weeping Widow too was she, — 

I bow before the added grace 
Which sorrow gives to thee ! 

Come, Magdalena ! shame on him 

Whose selfish heart contrived thy shame, 

Then left thee to the pelting storm 
Of doubly bitter blame ! 

The stainless one shall take thy hand 
And lift thee up where thou shalt give 

Lost innocence for love divine — 
A better life fo live. 

No ballad singing Minstrel yet 
Such varied beauty e'er has seen, 

As now before my dazzled eyes 
Lies on this fragrant green. 

I cannot sing for savage man 

So busy shedding blood for gold; 

For gold he'd lade the ocean dry, 
For gold, be bought and sold. 

Still let him plot, and grasp, and crush, 
And hoard, and strut, and cheat, and lie, 

He has no ear for sacred song, 
And songless let him die. 

Yours is the holy task of love, 

For on your lap and by your knees 

The priceless and immortal life 
Unfolds by sweet degrees. 

How dear to watch the opening flower, 
To gently bend the tender spray ! 

And keep the spiders that devour, 
And canker worms away ! 



THE TWO WOMEN. 

How sweet to lead the crystal spring 
That gushes sparkling from the ground, 

Thro' vineyard rare, or grassy fields, 
In verdant mazes round ! 

Which else, in snaky marsh or fen, 
Had strayed and lost itself and died ; 

Now, like a sprightly docile fawn, 
It toddles by your side. 

How dear to see the dawning light, 
Faint on the Heavenly islands play, 

When gleaming o'er the Eastern hills, 
The promise of the perfect day ! 

But sweeter far a human heart 

To nurse and tend, inspire and shield! 
O, dearer far a soul divine 

Beneath a mother's eye revealed ! 

To feed those softly moulded lips — 
O, blessed labor, Heavenly care ! 

And guide the little rosy feet 
So gently past the thorny snare. 

To sing the songs of other days, 

That touch the heart and dim the eyes ; 

To teach the prayer and hymn of praise, 
That lift the young soul to the skies, 

The angels well might envy you — 
If envy could such beings move ; 

But that their own enraptured toil 
Fulfils the same Almighty love. 

The young bird in its mossy nest 

Holds up its head and cries for food, 

The flower its golden chalice rears 
And is with lighted gems bedewed. 



A BALLAD I PART I. 

This new immortal flower of God 
Expands to drink the light and dew; 

This wingless bird of Heaven pleads 

For wings of love and thought from you. 

And as when country maiden feeds 
The peeping chickens at the door, 

She crumbles fine the lumps of bread, 
The anxious mother breaks them more : 

So I, for little children sing, 
In language lowly, simple, wise, 

That you, O, chosen ones! may show 
More sweetly where the wisdom lies. 

Look round and see these violets bloom, 
Look up and love the Summer sky, 

And listen to the warbling thrush 
On yonder elm that towers so high ! 

Then think — there was a time when these 

And all the beauty that you see, 
Of color, shape or sound were not — 

Then list a little while to me! 



THE TWO WOMEN. 



Part II 



U AR in the unknown depths of Time, 
Unheeded save by God alone, 
This earth in dismal darkness whirled 
A fiery bulk of molten stone. 

The huge, fierce-hissing lonely lump 
God out of empty nothing made, 

And sowed its womb with seeds of law 
To be a world of light and shade. 

Long, long it writhed a seething mass 
Of fire, all formless and inane, 

Without a bird or tree or flower 
Or azure sky or singing rain. 

How many millions of our years 

Were spent to cool it's scorched breast, 

God has not told, man cannot know, 
Nor knowing would he be more blest. 

A day is as a thousand years, 
A thousand years are as a day 

To God — whose name be ever praised ! 
But we are creatures closed in clay. 

At length a dim uncertain light, 
Like early dawn of misty morn, 

Suffuses thro' the steaming space — 
The tortured ball looks less forlorn. 



A BALLAD : PART II. 

Slowly the arching firmament 
Arises o'er the glimmering seas, 

The swarthy, naked land uprears 
Its ridges to the stifling breeze. 

Slowly beneath the shallow brine 

To live, the low, dull seaweed tries, 

Upon the margin of the deep 

The frog-pipes and coarse weeds arise. 

Slowly the nameless growths arose; 

Gigantic ferns their fans unfurled 
Like palm trees ; and great trunks that form 

The coal fields of the nether world. 

A vegetation rank and pale, 

Weird-like and shadowless and grey, 
Springs up and falls and springs again 

While countless ages melt away. 

More light, more light ! thro' vapor dim 
A rounded disc in crimson drest 

Describes an arch thro' mighty space 
Then disappears in Ocean's breast ; 

Leaving a gloom before unknown, 

Something like night o'er sea and shore ; 

As lightning lightens up the cloud 
And leaves it darker than before. 

Perhaps it was the glorious sun 

That made that day and left that night ; 
But not a human eye beheld 

Or watched his coming with delight. 

Again, again, and brighter now 
The maker of the arches springs 

Unwearied from the undefined 

And dubious verge of earthly things. 



13 



14 THE TWO WOMEN. 

Clearer and deeper, in his smile 
The air becomes a heavenly blue, 

And as he sinks a curve of fire 

Pierces the deepening darkness thro'. 

Perhaps it was the pallid moon 

That beamed upon the lifeless sea ; 

The lamp that lights the lover's eye, 
That shone last night on you and me. 

And things of living silver sheen 

Burn brightly in the hollow gloom, — 

"Like good deeds in a naughty world,"* 
Or angels round a tomb. 

Sun, moon and stars now cheer the earth, 
The wide luxuriant landscape smiles ; 

The parent of all beauty paints 

With splendors, continents and isles. 

The trees are green, the skies are blue, 
The clouds in golden robes are drest 

And all the tints of earth and air 
Are mirrored in old Ocean's breast. 

And creatures strange with beating hearts 
Now live and roam the waters deep, 

Great warlike fishes chase and kill, 
The weaker ones the shallows keep. 

They on each other prey — like men 
And brutal nations of to-day 

That seize and hold their neighbor's lands 
And peace and justice drive away. 

Yet those are blameless ; God them made 
Sea pirates clad in plated mail 

To do His will, unconsciously, 
With bony tooth and fin and scale. 
* " So shines a good deed in this naughty world." — Shakespeare. 



a ballad: part ii. 15 

Well armed with long and ragged jaws 

Fierce reptiles in the hot lagoons 
Trail their grim bodies thro' the slime 

And wallow thro' the lazy noons. 

And dreadful dragons lived and flapped 

Against the light their hideous wings; 
And uncouth monsters now unknown, 

And serpents coiled in glittering rings 

With poison fangs and fiery stings. 
And frightful earthquakes oft convulsed 

And tore the bowels of the world, 
And bellowing to the blotted moon 

The yawning crocodile was hurled 

In drifted leagues of mud and sand, 
With crackling spine and stifled groan, 

Entombed within the liquid mass 

And turned to stone in hills of stone ! 

More wonderful than these God made 
Great birds which now we see no more 

To rise on wings and live in air 
Or wade along the shallow shore. 

And eagles, condors, vultures fierce, 

That watch upon the cedar peaks 
To swoop and tear their quivering prey 

With horny claws and crooked beaks. 

Bright creatures clad in gorgeous plumes 

Of crimson, azure, green and gold, 
Sat in the boughs secure, above 

The hooded snake and gavial bold. 

And sober-coated birds of song: 

The thrush, the linnet and the dove — 

The prime musicians of the earth, 
The types of innocence and love. 



1 6 THE TWO WOMEN. 



But still more wonderful than these, 

God made the mammals, them that feed 

With nice warm milk their nuzzling young, 
Various in beauty, strength and speed. 

The ponderous mammoth, now extinct ; 

The elephant, that yet we see, 
The striped tiger, spotted pard, 

The lordly lion, fierce and free. 

The camel and the antlered deer, 
The horse so swift and beautiful, 

The simple sheep, the patient cow, 
The friendly dog so dutiful. 

And many more we need not name 
That minister to man's delight, 

With sweets and odors, strengths and foods, 
And sounds and colors dark and bright. 



17 



Part III 



UT, lo ! what mateless form appears 

Whose eyes like spirits from above 
Look from the watchtower of the soul 
With mingled wonder, power and love? 

Wisdom and justice on his brow 

His origin divine proclaim, 
And in his secret being burns 

A spark of the eternal flame. 

To crown the long procession vast 
Of varied life that upward still 

From lowly forms less beautiful 

Mounts to the summit of the hill, — 

The Monarch of Creation stands 
The heir of Heaven on Eden's sod: 

Earth, bird and beast are made for man, 
But man, O, joy ! is made for God. 

Among the creatures of the earth 

Like shepherd thro' his flock he moves, 

To each he gives the fitting name 
Expressive of their hates and loves. 

They flee not, hurt not, for he them 
By sovereignty of nature rules; 

The power of mind o'er matter bears 
The sway, — as wise men over fools. 



THE TWO WOMEN. 



The birds and beasts in happy pairs 

He sees, and utters, "Why?" and sighs. 

His voice like lonely music rings 
But no one like himself replies. 

Alone, alas! without a peer; 

A nameless feeling fills his breast, 
He sinks upon the violet bank 

And poppies lull him into rest. 

And Adam dreams that from his side, 
Near life's mysterious music strings, 

Radiant in beauty, love and grace, 
The Form Maternal springs! 

The crimson roses deeper blush, 
The lilies smile in softer white, 

And paradisan blossoms fill 

The air and sense with strange delight. 

The skies are brighter, and the bees 
Make sweeter honey than before; 

The budding flowers fain would bloom 
That earth with beauty may run o'er. 

The birds with added rapture pour 

Their notes of joy and love and praise; 

The rills and murmuring cataracts 
Afar, half veiled in azure haze, 
Send on the gentle breeze their lays. 

All nature glows with lovelier hues, — 
What can the fair Creation mean? 

To deck the chamber of the Bride! 
To grace the coming of the Queen ! 

And Eva over Adam leaned,. 

And with her fingers touched his eyes, 
Breaking that deep and pregnant trance, — 

" My husband and my lord, arise !" 



a ballad: part hi. 19 

And Adam knew she was his wife, 
Flesh of his flesh, bone of his bone, 

The mould of all humanity, — 
But Eva's spirit was her own. 

A spirit of such compass formed 

That to the highest act can rise, 
And to the lowest deep sink down, — 

Can drag man to the door of hell 

Or lift him upward to the skies ! 

The mystery Eva held, she gave 

To all her daughters ; to her sons 
Unsolvable, while earth is trod ; 

Her husband first she disobeyed 

And then she disobeyed her God. 

O, lovely listeners to my tale, 

Stop not, displeased, those "ivory shells"* 
With your fair hands! nor turn away 

Those eyes where so much beauty dwells ! 

Think not that I, of woman born, 

Shall sing the ill by woman done : 
No ! let us fly across the gulf 

Where mankind weltered, stained and torn — 
And see the Mother of the Son 

Who has a holier work begun ! 



* "Into that ivory shell, thine ear."— Keats. 



THE TWO WOMEN. 



Part IV. 



L HEN Kings are born the trumpets bray, 
The cannons thunder from the wall, 

And giddy fools make holiday 

For one who may perchance appall 

And fill the world with dire dismay. 

In silence springs the chrystal fount, 
In silence sits the brooding dove, 

The myriad forest leaves unfold 
In silence to the blue above. 

In silence blooms the lovely rose 
And fills with fragrance all the air, 

The stars in silence look on us 
To wean us from our noisy care. 

In silence the young lover looks 
Upon the sweetly bashful face 

Whose silent, soft and rosy lips 
Are to his heart the gates of grace. 

From peace, the light of morning mounts, 
And sinks into the peace of even', 

In silent twilight forms the dew, 

The mingled tears of earth and heaven. 

In the dark silence of the ground, 

The germs of flower and fruit and grain 

Shoot upward with persistent life 

And clothe with beauty hill and plain. 



A BALLAD : PART IV. 



And thought from holy silence springs 
In woodland shade or dusky room, 

Filling the earth with deathless things 
That scatter sin and grief and gloom. 

So rose the Lily without stain, 

The Second Eva of our race, 
Mary; to whom an angel bowed 

And said, "Hail! Full of Grace !" 

O, bring the purple hyacinth, 

The tulip's dewy wine cup bring ! 

And lowly wind flowers of the wilds 
And all the blossoms of the Spring ! 

Bring the pale heart-flower of the rock, 

The primrose from the sheltered nook ; 

And bring the tender silken leaves 

The sunny wind of promise weaves 

Beside the singing brook ! 

Tho' half bowed down by flakes of frost 
And tho' the fields are bleak around, 

Leave not the snow-drop, pure and pale, 
Whose love has pierced the wintry ground. 

Bring, too, the early violet 
Of humble mien and odor sweet, 

With tassels of the stripling trees, 
And strew them at Her feet! 

And from the too long sterile heart 
Bring flowers of gratitude ! for these 

Are dearer far to Heaven and Her 

Than precious pearls from twilight seas, 

Or any flower on earth that grows, — 
They shame the lily and the rose. 



THE TWO WOMEN. 

O, let us love whom God has loved ! 

Whom God has blest, O, let us bless ! 
Whom God has chosen, let us choose ! 

Woe, woe, if we do less. 

Lo ! by one loving breath she oped 

The gates of Heaven to banished man ! 

For thro' her meek obedient love 
Almighty God fulfils His plan. 

She bore the Savior of the World, 

She fed Him from her virgin breast, 
She, pierced by sorrow, saw Him die, 
' And laid in death's mysterious rest. 

With Him she lives in Heaven for aye, 
With Him whose law is love and peace, 

Whose reign is in the humble heart, 
Whose reign shall never cease. 

O, joy to all of womankind ! 

Beauty in you must ever shine, 
Who can perceive and use the power 

Of brave Obedience divine! 

Your plastic fingers touch the race 

In infancy when all is new, 
Not as the potter and the clay, 

But, as the rose receives its hue 
And form from earth and sun and rain, 

So children do from you. 

Touched by that pure and holy love, 
That back to Hell the dragon hurled, 

You hold the lever in your hands 
To lift the world ! 



A BALLAD : PART V. 23 



ART 



V. 



HE winds are hushed, the leaves are still, 

The birds have ceased their amorous lays, 
The day is fading from the vale, 
Only the tops of distant hills 
Receive the farewell rays. 

The rivulet is better heard 

Tho' dim and not so plainly seen ; 
And all the colors, born of light, 
In which the beauteous flowers were bright 
Are lost in dusky green. 

We will not see the glow worm's lamp, 
Nor hear the lonely night-bird cry, 

Nor stay to see the star appear, 
Hesper, the soul of evening sky. 

For in the peace of happy Home 
Your eyes shall shed a dearer light 

Than all the cold and pallid stars 
That glitter on the brow of night. 

And with this wish I bid adieu 
While light is left us in the skies, 

That we who fell by Eva's fall 
Beneath sin's dark and deadly pall, 

With sainted Mary now shall rise 
And gain that light that never dies ! 



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